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famous poem

awful truths these be
i loathed you
i am the wind that wavers
she said
the saddest of the year
when the hours of day are numbered
give me hunger
rising moon has hid the stars
i despise my friends more than you
were it not for that singular smell
short and sweet, and we've come to the end of it
into the silent land

 



Poetry news via Google, MSN, and Yahoo!

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